At least I have Eloise here for when I feel like I’m goin' mad.
Her mother and father sat close to her at breakfast, and though her mother at least tried to be polite and cordial to everyone, Beatrice could feel something gnawing at her.
“Are ye all right, Ma?” she asked. “Ye seem a bit out of sorts this morning.”
“She’s fine,” her father answered before her mother could even open her mouth.
“Well then, let me hear it from her.”
Her mother looked askance at her and exhaled loudly as she stabbed at the food on her plate. “I’m nae sleepin’ well,” she answered softly. “A bit nervous about everythin' that’s happenin’ here.”
“She’s worried that Laird MacSween might nae do enough to help us,” her father filled in. “That ye’re givin’ yerself over to a man who willnae give yer agin’ parents any care.”
“Leo explained what he could do,” she reminded him, but he was having none of it.
He leaned in close, forcing her mother to lean back slightly from the table. “Ye have been shortsighted about this whole thing, Beatrice.” Beatrice had never seen such dark anger in his eyes before. “Ye shouldnae have run off the way ye did. Do ye ken what people say about ye?”
“I daenae care what anyone says about me,” she answered, cold and detached.
The two of them should leave if that’s how they feel. If this is how they’re going to behave, they should be on their way and leave us to it.
“They say that nay one would want ye now, even if ye broke off yer betrothal and let the elders follow through on the decree,” her father continued. There was a cheer in his voice, as if he were pleased that she had done the damage herself.
“Patrick, please,” her mother begged gently. “Those are just ugly rumors. We daenae ken if anyone actually believes it.”
“Aye, but we do. I think what she’s done here has proven that she’s nae a suitable wife.” Her father pointed at her face with his fork. “Ye had better pray that Laird MacSween doesnae come to his senses and toss ye out, lassie, because there’s nay another laird in all of Scotland lookin’ to take ye on.”
He dropped his fork back into his plate and glowered in her mother’s direction.
Say somethin'. Please, say somethin' and make him stop.
“Beatrice,” her mother started, swallowing hard. “Ye need to be practical about these matters. Marriage is about keepin’ yerself alive. Keepin' yer family cared for. Ye understand that?”
“What do ye both think I’m doin' here, then?”
Her mother rested a hand on her father’s arm. “There are men among the creditors who would take care of yer family better than Laird MacSween. It’s nae only ye, Bea. Ye need to think about our survival too, nae just love.”
Beatrice stabbed her fork into a piece of meat on her plate and shoved it into her mouth. At the far end of the table, Eloise was watching them with her usual calm expression. Her eyes would flick to Beatrice whenever she glanced in her direction.
She kens that they’re pressurin’ me. She can tell what’s happenin’, even if she cannae hear it.
James was sitting next to Eloise, but was slumped over at the table as if he were asleep. He lifted his head every once in a while, sniffed the food presented to him, and returned to his hunched position.
Desperate for a respite, Beatrice pointed at him and nodded towards Eloise. “James, ye seem a bit under the weather?”
“Tell that to yer man. He gave me his entire liquor supply.”
Eloise rested a hand on his back and patted it playfully. “I daenae ken if ye have enough for yer weddin' now.” She laughed.
Beatrice was amused at the idea of Leo sharing a drink with James and maybe even enjoying himself. He had yet to make an appearance that morning, and she wasn’t about to go searching for him.
In fact, none of the MacSweens had come down for breakfast. Not Effie, not Violet. Beatrice wondered if they had been told to stay put until the guests had eaten or if they simply wanted to avoid her parents.
“Eloise, would ye like to see more of the castle?” she asked, rising from her seat.
Her father grabbed her arm and tugged her back down. “Nay, lassie, we’re nae done talkin'.”
“I’d love to,” Eloise agreed from the other end of the table. She whispered something in James’s ear, and he groaned in response.
